Feast your eyes on the floor Where's the pin you're looking for It's there where the pattern of the grain Meets a tea or coffee stain When the dead visit you Do they ask what they should do Or do they take their own advice Like they used to do in life I hear the fish in the cold north sea Dear little fish won't you come to me In trawler's nets all wet and silvery and fine I hear the fish in the cold north sea Dear little fish won't you come to me In trawler's nets all wet and silvery and fine Feast your eyes on the floor Where's that pin you're looking for It's there where the pattern of the grain Meets a tea or coffee stain In the dust of yesterday For a minute you can stay And watch the spider work her way back home